Weekend At Mallory's
by Red Witch
Summary: As Mallory delves further into drug induced madness, the gang decides to take advantage of the situation.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone to rehab. Now let me make this clear. Getting whacked out on drugs is bad. Unless you're a cartoon character. Then it's fun to write about it.**

 **If anything, this fic should be a cautionary tale on why you shouldn't do drugs. Mallory definitely shouldn't.**

 **Weekend At Mallory's **

"Should we _do something_?" Cyril looked very nervous. "I feel like we should be doing something!"

"I **am** doing something," Krieger was checking out Mallory who was sitting at her desk in her office. She had a strange catatonic yet goofy look on her face.

"We should get a doctor," Cyril frowned.

"I'm…" Krieger began.

"A **real** doctor!" Cyril snapped.

"What's going on?" Lana asked as she and Ray walked in.

"I **found** her like this!" Cyril pointed. "Guys we should do something!"

"Well her pulse is strong and she's still breathing," Krieger said as he checked her over. "As we say in the medical profession: The lights are on, but nobody's home!"

"What do you think she took this time?" Ray asked.

"Whatever it is," Krieger looked into Mallory's eyes with a light. "It's not one of mine."

"Check her purse and see if there's anything in there," Ray suggested to Lana.

"Ugh I thought my purse was unorganized," Lana looked in Mallory's purse. "Why the hell would the woman carry a couple of D batteries? And is that actual **gold bullion?** It's like the Treasure of the Deep in here."

"Just look for pills," Cyril said.

"Here's a bottle of something," Lana pulled something out and looked at the label. "Optimum Plus."

" _Optimum?"_ Krieger did a double take. "That's a Quaalude! Let me see those pills."

"God, I know Mallory is having a hard time but this is bad even for her," Lana groaned.

"Yeah she should stick to alcohol," Ray admitted. "Her system is used to that!"

"Uh oh," Krieger frowned as he studied the pills.

"That's not a good sign when **you** say Uh oh is it?" Cyril asked.

"No, it is not," Krieger said. "These aren't just any Quaaludes. These are the 714 series!"

"Those are the super Quaaludes, aren't they?" Lana realized.

"Better known by their street name, Lemons," Krieger explained.

" _Lemons?"_ Ray gasped. "As in the drug so powerful and dangerous they were discontinued **decades ago**?"

"The very same," Krieger frowned. "Guys even I don't mess with this shit. And that's a pretty high bar to beat."

"Where the hell did she get these from?" Ray looked at the bottle. "Timothy Leary?"

"I can't believe this!" Krieger was angry.

"What that Mallory would turn to drugs?" Lana asked.

"No, that she didn't ask me to supply them to her!" Krieger snapped. "She has me on retainer for crying out loud!"

"Those last few words echo my sentiments," Cyril groaned.

"Plus, all my stuff is fresh and made to order!" Krieger snapped. "I don't deal with expired shit! I pride myself on creating the most potent but up to date drugs money can buy!"

"Gotta give him this one," Ray said.

"You're not helping," Lana said to Ray.

"Oh, and **you are**?" Ray shot back.

"What's going on?" Pam walked in. "Hey! Ms. Archer! How are you doing?"

"She's strung up on Quaaludes so powerful she doesn't even know who she is, or where she is," Cyril snapped. " **That's** how she's doing!"

"Let me see," Pam looked at the bottle Krieger was holding. "Huh, just proves that old adage. When life gives you Lemons, don't drive your car."

"I don't think Mallory can even **sit** in a car, let alone drive it!" Lana said.

Just then Mallory slid onto the floor. "See?" Lana pointed.

"What do we do now?" Cyril asked.

"Guys relax," Pam said. "This isn't exactly Ms. Archer's first time on the Pill Express."

"She was able to withstand Scopolamine," Krieger said. "So yeah I wouldn't worry too much. I've been medicating Ms. Archer since I was seventeen. It'll be fine."

"Look I just think…" Cyril did a double take. **"Seventeen?** _Really?"_

"Let's just say she had a lot of parties where I supplied some of the refreshments," Krieger coughed. "And I supplied a few high school parties too. And some college ones."

"I'm guessing this little party supply business didn't **dry up** after high school?" Ray folded his arms.

"Pretty judgmental for a guy who not only was part of a cocaine cartel," Krieger pointed out. "And had some parties of his own. But his brother was a drug dealer!"

"Drug farmer," Ray corrected. "Point taken."

"And it's not like Ms. Archer wasn't getting a cut," Krieger added.

"I don't really want to know," Cyril groaned. "Should we get her to a hospital?"

"Depends on how much you want her arrested," Krieger said.

"I take it that's a rhetorical question?" Pam snickered.

"He has a point," Ray said. "Even with doctor patient confidentially all those illegal drugs stored in Ms. Archer's body are bound to set off some alarms."

"I know," Lana sighed. "Mallory and I had to feign complete deniability when they analyzed Archer's blood at the hospital. Thank god the cops bought it."

"Look she just needs to come down and detox on her own," Krieger took out a small needle. "And this baby will help her stabilize."

"What the hell is that?" Lana pointed.

"A little concoction I've come up with on my own," Krieger said. "It helps the body naturally detox."

"You're going to put **more drugs** in her body?" Pam asked.

"I've done this like **fifty times,"** Krieger snapped as he injected it into Mallory's arm. "Including the repast after Timothy Leary's funeral. That was a weird weekend."

"Well if you know what you're doing…" Cyril shrugged.

"Cyril!" Lana gasped.

"Krieger knows her body better than anyone," Cyril told her. "Hell, we could drop her off at the Betty Ford Clinic and they wouldn't know half as much as he does. Like it or not, he's her best bet of getting through this."

"Also, if she buys it," Pam thought aloud. "It's one less obstacle for you."

"WHAT?" Lana shouted.

"Oh, come on!" Pam said. "Ms. Archer has been riding roughshod over Cyril since the first day he opened this dump! With her gone he could do whatever he wants and have nobody to stop him! You've thought about that Cyril! Am I right?"

"Only like one or two…" Cyril paused. "Or twelve times. Definitely less than twenty."

"Cyril!" Lana glared at him.

"Oh, like you never imagined taking over for Mallory when she died!" Pam snapped.

"Point taken," Lana admitted. Then her phone rang. "Now what?"

"Now we should get her back in the chair," Ray remarked as Lana took the phone call.

"Also, we probably should put some shall we say…?" Krieger paused. "Adult leakage protection."

"Ewww…" Ray winced as he and Pam helped Mallory back in the chair.

"This is Lana Kane," Lana said. "What's happening? What…?" She moved outside the room for more privacy.

Pam looked under Mallory's skirt. "We're in luck, she's already wearing some."

"Oh good," Krieger nodded. "She planned ahead."

"That was County Day," Lana groaned as she walked in. "It seems AJ's entire class has come down with the chicken pox. So, guess what I'm going to have to deal with all weekend?"

"Pretty much what we're going to have to deal with all weekend," Ray pointed at Mallory. "Only without the screaming."

"Depends on how fast she burns through the Lemons," Krieger told him.

"Lana you go take care of your daughter," Cyril said. "Don't worry about it. We'll take care of Mallory."

"Are you sure?" Lana asked.

"Lana, Ms. Archer isn't going to be up until at least Tuesday," Krieger pointed out. "That's plenty of time. You get AJ to the doctor and get her some rest."

"What about Mallory?" Lana frowned.

"We've got this," Cyril said. "Go! AJ is your priority now. Don't even **think** of coming back until she's better. We'll handle this."

"Thanks! I'll call later," Lana said as she left.

"Call Monday!" Cyril said. "Take all the time you need. Don't worry. We'll take care of Mallory."

"Bye!" Pam waved. "Say bye Ms. Archer!"

Ray moved Mallory's arm in a wave. "Bye!" Ray mocked.

"Just so I'm clear," Krieger asked. "By taking care of her, you mean we're going to completely take advantage of her, right?"

"Duh," Cyril said. "Starting with that safe she's got in her office. It's got one of those fingerprint locks."

"You think we should get her something so she doesn't dehydrate?" Pam asked. "Like some vodka?"

"Relax," Krieger waved. "I'll stick an IV in her. She'll be fine."

A short time later in Ms. Archer's office…

"HEY MS. ARCHER!" Cheryl shouted in Mallory's ear. "ARE YOU OKAY?"

Mallory said nothing. She was just sitting in a wheelchair with a very dazed look. "Wow's she's really out of it," Cheryl said to the others. "She didn't even glare at me."

"Now we have **two people** in a coma," Ray remarked. "Honestly Cheryl I thought **you** would be the next to go."

"Me too," Cyril said as he looked at the contents of the safe.

"What's in there?" Pam asked.

"Just some alcohol, some condoms and black vibrator," Cyril winced as he looked in a vault. "And a note. To whichever idiot breaks in here, probably you Sterling. Did you really think I'd be stupid enough to leave anything valuable in my office vault **this time**? Don't drink my stash. Mother."

"Still more interesting than what they found in Al Capone's vault," Ray said dryly.

"You know I think we should take Ms. Archer out for the day," Cheryl got an idea. "Don't you think we should take Ms. Archer out for the day Pam?"

"Okay," Pam shrugged as she took the wheelchair. "See you later, taters!"

"Don't wait up!" Cheryl grinned. "Girls trip! Girl's trip!"

"Should we leave her with them?" Ray asked as the women left.

"Ehhh," Cyril and Krieger said at the same time.

"You're right," Ray admitted. "I don't really care either."

"Besides," Cyril shrugged. "Where could those two possibly take her?"

Flashforward a few hours later to the inside of a very famous park…

"I didn't know you had an all access pass to Disneyland!" Pam whooped as she pushed the wheelchair.

"A deal the Tunts made with Walt Disney years ago," Cheryl said. "Come on! There's something I always wanted to do!"

A few minutes later…

"WHOOOOOOO!" Pam and Cheryl whooped as they rode Space Mountain with Mallory.

Later…

"WHOOOOO!" Cheryl and Pam whooped as they went down Splash Mountain. Mallory had a dazed look on her face as her arms went up and she was splashed.

Later…

"This is great!" Cheryl cackled as they all rode on the teacups.

"I told you she wouldn't throw up," Pam said to Cheryl.

Mallory slumped and fell down in her seat. "Yeah, she's fine," Cheryl said.

Later…

Mallory was riding the Dumbo ride alone. "I can't believe they just let a near comatose woman ride these rides," Pam said as she watched along with Cheryl on the ground.

"This happens among Tunts and rich people a lot more than you think," Cheryl explained.

Pam realized something. "You guys use this method to induce heart attacks, don't you?"

"To kill off relatives and get their money? It doesn't work as often as you would think but yeah," Cheryl said. "I'm pretty sure Ms. Archer isn't the type to get a heart attack on a ride but…"

"It was worth a shot," Pam finished.

"Exactly," Cheryl nodded. "I could go for some cotton candy. You want some cotton candy?"

"Duh!" Pam said. "What about Ms. Archer?"

"We'll stick her on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride for a bit," Cheryl shrugged. "She'll be fine."

"I have a better idea," Pam grinned.

Later…

" _It's a small world after all!"_ The colorful animatronic dolls sang and danced gleefully. _"It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small, small, world!"_

Mallory rode the boat alone. She had some Mickey Mouse ears on her head. Her eye started to twitch as the music went on and on…

Much later…

"Those were really neat fireworks," Pam said as she wheeled Mallory to the parking lot. She was also wearing Mickey Mouse ears but these were glowing in the dark.

"I love fireworks," Cheryl sighed. She was wearing a princess crown.

"I know," Pam said. "Hey! I know a place where we can go next! The happiest place on Earth!"

"Pam," Cheryl blinked. "We're leaving the Magic Kingdom."

"I know," Pam said. "I mean the **real** happiest place on Earth."

Flashforward to later that evening…

"BEST PLACE ON EARTH EVER!" Cheryl squealed as several handsome barely clad dancers whirled fire batons on stage. She held a glass of champagne in one hand and several bills in another.

Pam whooped. "Love this private room here! Ain't it great Ms. Archer?"

Mallory was still sitting in her wheelchair dazed and out of it. In addition to her Mickey Mouse ears she was now wearing a feather boa. "She's having a good time," Cheryl nodded. "Wait how did you afford a private room?"

"Relax," Pam waved. "I just charged everything to Mrs. A's credit card."

"So she **is** part of the fun! WHOOO!" Cheryl whooped. Both she and Pam started dancing with the male strippers.

The following morning back at the Figgis Agency…

"Why are we here?" Krieger asked Cyril and Ray in the bullpen.

"In case Pam and Cheryl come back," Cyril explained. "Or need bail."

"In case they were charged with murder," Krieger put it together. "Yeah I can see that happening."

Just then Ray's phone rang. "Three guesses who this is?" Ray groaned as he looked at it.

"It's not a telemarketer is it?" Cyril groaned.

"No, it is not," Ray sighed. "It's Lana!"

"Don't tell her what happened!" Cyril said.

"We don't know what happened," Krieger pointed out.

"Exactly!" Cyril said.

"Oh, hi Lana," Ray said as he answered his phone. "How's AJ? Aww. Well you tell that poor little darlin' that Uncle Ray sends his love. Huh? Mallory? How is she? Uhhh…She's fine. Just fine. No problems whatever. Where **is** she? Uhh…. Well Pam and Cheryl took her…home. Back to her apartment. Where she should be. Where **else** would she be?"

"God only knows with those two," Cyril groaned under his breath.

"Well it wasn't _exactly_ like that Lana," Ray paused. "They just sort of volunteered. I'm sure they're fine. What? Yeah, he's here. Really?"

Ray put his hand over the phone. "She wants to talk to Cyril."

"We're dead," Krieger groaned.

Cyril glared at him and took the phone. "Hello Lana. How's AJ? Hang on…Hang on! I'm sure Ms. Archer is fine! Just fine! I was going to call Pam this morning. I **was!** Oh my God I'm sure everything is fine Patty Panic! If it will make you feel better we'll go call Pam now and…No! Lana no! You have to watch AJ remember? Right! Everything will be fine! Well not with **that** attitude!"

"Look we'll go check on Ms. Archer right away," Cyril said. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Well yes, I am aware of whom I'm talking about. Yes, I do remember all those **other** instances I said there was nothing to worry about and it turned out there was **a lot** to worry about! But I'm **positive** that Mallory is safe at her apartment."

"I just got a text from Cheryl," Krieger held up his phone. "They're at Ms. Archer's apartment."

"Hang on!" Cyril said. "Krieger just got a text saying that **they are** at her apartment! And everything is **fine!"**

"She wants us to bring beer and whatever drugs we can find," Krieger told them. "They've decided to throw a party."

"Everything is **fine,"** Cyril kept a straight face. "Just fine. They want us to come over and help them and bring some…liquids. And possibly some aspirin. Don't worry. Don't worry. I said not to worry! We'll go check on them right away. Yes. We'll be there. Lana it's going to be fine. I'll call you Monday and give you the report. Okay…Bye."

Cyril hung up the phone and gave it back to Ray. "I think she bought it."

"You are getting better at lying," Ray admitted. "We're going over there?"

"Yes," Cyril said. "Right after we make a stop at the store. If there's going to be a party we might as well bring something."

"It would be rude if we didn't," Krieger admitted.

Sometime later at Mallory's apartment…

"I'm glad you brought food as well as booze," Cheryl said to the guys as they stood around while a party was going on. "That's the sign of a polite guest!"

"It was the least we could do," Krieger said.

"The very least," Cyril said as he took a drink.

"This is really a fun party," Pam said. "And look at this apartment Ms. Archer scored. It's nice."

"Who are all these people Pam?" Cyril asked.

"Other people who live in the building," Pam said. "A lot of old timers but there's some sploosh worthy blood here too."

"It's a shame Ms. Archer isn't aware of how good this party is," Ray said.

"Oh, like she's the **only one** ," Cheryl pointed.

Mallory was in a semi-circle with other equally catatonic older people in wheelchairs. "It's nice seeing her making friends for a change," Ray admitted.

"She does really well when she doesn't have her personality," Pam remarked. "Shame it can't be that way all the time."

"It could be if we just…" Cheryl began.

"No Cheryl!" Pam snapped.

"Why not?" Cheryl asked.

"Because Lana for some reason would be pissed," Ray explained.

"Oh yeah," Cheryl frowned. **"Her."**

"Her who?" An older woman with short red hair and a smart light blue pantsuit walked over.

"Just someone we know Mrs. O'Malley," Pam said. "Guys this is Margery O'Malley. She's the head of the co-opt board of this building."

"You have our condolences," Ray said.

"Yeah, we know Ms. Archer," Krieger said.

"Good thing she's drugged up out of her gourd," Cheryl pointed to Mallory and her new comatose crew.

"Huh," Mrs. O'Malley blinked. "I wondered why I've been here longer than five minutes and she hasn't insulted me."

"We can explain…" Cyril began.

"Honestly I prefer her this way," Mrs. O'Malley interrupted. "So do the rest of the tenants."

"I've got a great idea!" Cheryl giggled. "Wheelchair race!" Cheryl skipped over.

"I wonder if it's too early to have her committed?" Cyril thought aloud.

"Are you talking about Ms. Archer or Cheryl?" Ray asked.

"Pick one," Cyril groaned.

"VRRROOM! VRRROM!" Cheryl laughed as she pushed Mallory wildly around the room.

"HEY! NO FAIR!" A man was pushing an elderly man in a wheelchair. "Come on Dad! We can beat them!"

"And this party just took an interesting turn," Ray quipped.

The party took many interesting turns that night. Such as…

"Food fight!" Someone yelled as some dip threw across the room.

"Damn it Herbert!" Mrs. O'Malley snapped. "We've **talked** about this!"

"Right back at ya Herbert!" Pam shouted as she threw some food at Herbert.

"Pam we've **talked** about this!" Cyril snapped. Right before some dip hit him in the face.

"I am not cleaning this up," Ray sniffed as some food started flying across the room.

And also…

"Conga time!" Pam whooped as she led a conga line.

As well as…

"Who set up that badminton net in the middle of the room?" Cyril called out as some older people were playing the game in the living room.

"It's kind of a thing around here," Mrs. O'Malley shrugged. "Don't ask."

CRASH!

"Oh well," Pam said as a player accidentally smashed a lamp with his backhand. "That lamp didn't go with the décor anyway."

Eventually the party fizzled out. And soon it was Monday Morning at the Figgis Agency.

"Well this weekend was much more interesting than I thought it would be," Krieger remarked as the gang met up in the bullpen.

"It was kind of like Weekend at Bernie's," Ray remarked. "Only Bernie isn't really dead and nobody cares."

"Where's Ms. Archer?" Cyril asked.

"Back home I guess," Pam shrugged as she played with her phone.

"You just left her alone?" Cyril shouted.

"Chillax!" Pam waved. "Krieger put an IV into her arm. She'll be fine."

"What are you doing?" Ray asked.

"You'll see!" Pam grinned.

Phones started ringing across the room. "Oh, you sent us pictures!" Krieger said as he checked is phone. "You went to _Space Mountain_? Aw man!"

"You went to a _male strip club?"_ Ray shouted. "Aw man!"

"These are nice pictures," Cheryl grinned.

"Yeah I sent them out to everybody," Pam said. "Including some people I met at the party. I like Herbert. For an old guy he's a pistol!"

"Wait you sent those pictures to **all** your contacts?" Ray realized something.

"Yeah," Pam said.

"Is Lana one of your contacts?" Cyril asked.

"Yeah why…. Oh," Pam realized. "Well what are the odds she's going to see them right away and…?"

Just then the agency's phone began to ring. "I'm not answering that," Ray blinked.

"Me neither," Pam blinked.

"Boy I bet Lana is pissed," Cheryl giggled.

"Should one of us answer that?" Cyril asked.

"Nooooooooope," Everyone else said.

"Let the answering machine get it," Pam said.

"We have an answering machine?" Cheryl asked.

"This from the secretary," Ray rolled his eyes.

"Hey! Knowing that I had an answering machine would have saved me a lot of time and work!" Cheryl protested.

"You don't do any work anyway," Ray pointed out.

"Yes, but now I have a **better reason** not to," Cheryl told him.

The answering machine went on. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU ASSHOLES DO?" Lana's angry voice was heard. "WHY THE HELL AM I GETTING PICURES OF MALLORY ON A ROLLER COASTER? AND A STRIP CLUB? AND A PARTY? WHAT'S WITH THE BADMITTON NETS?"

"That is kind of a weird thing they do at that apartment complex isn't it?" Pam remarked.

"PICK UP YOU ASSHOLES! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!" Lana snapped. "I knew I couldn't trust you to look after Mallory! But nooo! I was stupid enough to let you do it anyway! Everything's _**fine**_ , huh Cyril? From what I've seen it's **not fine!** It's…"

BEEP!

"That is a time saver," Cheryl grinned.

"She's not happy, is she?" Pam blinked.

"No, she is not," Krieger said.

"Okay new plan," Cyril got up. "We go hide in a bar somewhere on the other side of town where Lana won't find us until she cools off!"

"Good plan," Krieger admitted.

Ray's phone made a noise indicating a text. He looked at it. "Perhaps we should go out of town just to be safe?" Ray gulped.

"What does she say?" Cyril asked nervously.

"You are in big ducking trouble," Ray read aloud. "You grass holes are seriously ducked."

"Auto-correct?" Pam asked.

"Oh yeah," Ray said. "I suggest we go. Quickly!"

"You didn't send any pictures to Ms. Archer, did you?" Cyril asked Pam as they fled.

"No," Pam said. "I only sent those pictures to my good contact list. People I actually like! No way Ms. Archer will know what we did!"

"I have a feeling she's going to piece together what happened," Ray realized.

Meanwhile back at Mallory's apartment…

Mallory began to come out of her daze. "What the…?" She blinked. "Oh, my head…It feels like I got hit by a linebacker. No worse, Pam!"

She noticed she had an IV in her arm. "Well at least Krieger made sure I wasn't dehydrated," She pulled the IV out of her arm. "What the hell did I take? I can't remember anything past…Nope. For some reason it's all a blank."

She managed to stand up. "My legs feel like they ran a marathon. My head feels like it's going to explode. And I'm more nauseous than the time I had to watch Trudy Beekman get the Woman of the Year award for the second time."

"Damn it. I must have taken some expired Quaaludes!"

She felt something on her head. She felt up and took it off. "What the hell…?" Mallory blinked as she looked at the Mickey Mouse ears. "Where did I get **these?"**

"And why am I wearing a feather boa? And…What the hell happened to **my apartment?"**

Mallory looked around her apartment. At the evidence of food and drinks. Several empty bottles. Paper plates and half empty cups all over the floor. Stains on the rug. A few broken lamps. Some chairs overturned. A badminton net halfway up in the middle of the room.

"Damn it!" Mallory groaned. "Did I throw **another party** during a blackout? I haven't done that since I had that thing with Timothy Leary!"


End file.
